The Soviet Files
by sailorgreywolf
Summary: This is a series of Soviet era PruRus oneshots. They differ in length, subject matter, time period, point of view and rating. There are strong hints of other pairings in some of the stories as well
1. The U-2 Incident

Germany was standing in America's office waiting for the never punctual blonde to show up. He had urgent business that he wanted to discuss and the American had done him the courtesy of being late. Germany agitatedly checked his watch again and the slowly moving hands again confirmed that the American was late. Germany sat in the chair on his side of the empty desk. Irritated, he tapped his finger against the arm of the chair. Suddenly, the door behind him banged open. He immediately jumped to his feet and turned to face the door. He had a very pressing point to discuss with America and nothing was going to stop him. But America looked right through Germany. His blue eyes were cold and focused.

He walked right past Germany and all the way around the desk before he finally seemed to notice that Germany was there. America looked right at him and started. He said in a voice that did nothing to conceal his shock, "Oh, Ludwig. What are you doing here?" This seemed to be odd behavior, but Germany was still not quite certain what to expect from the superpower that had been helping him get back on his feet. He was not certain how strange this actually was, so he brushed it off and moved straight on to what he wanted to say, "Alfred, we had an appointment and you are late. I want to talk to you about my brother. When the war ended we agreed that the economic zones would be temporary, but I have not seen Gil since the end of the war. Please understand, he's my brother and I need to get him back."

Germany swallowed the last words that swelled up in his throat because they felt thick in his throat. That meant that he was about to, very uncharacteristically, cry. It was childish and unusual for him to show this much emotion, but he couldn't help himself. For as long as he could remember, Gilbert had always cared for him and always protected him. When he had had the chance to protect his brother, he had done nothing. The image of Russia with his hand on Prussia's shoulder, leading the albino away was still burned into Germany's mind. That had been the last time he had seen his brother, and it had been in the company of a psychopath who was notorious for abusing his charges.

America sighed and slowly sunk into his own chair, "Look, Ludwig. There's nothing I can do. East Germany is an independent country with its own government." Germany scoffed and it felt almost painful, "That isn't a government, that's a group of Soviet puppets with no legitimacy and we both know it!" America sighed again, "I don't have time for your domestic issues right now. I just had a spy plane go down in Soviet territory and if Ivan gets anything useful out of it, there will be hell to pay." Germany leaned back in his chair, disappointed that his reunion with the single most important person in his life was less important than a single crashed plane. Without contact with Gilbert, Germany couldn't stop himself from imagining what Russia was doing to his brother. He thought about horrific forms of torture and he couldn't stop himself until he saw his brother again. But, there was no moving America at this point and nothing Germany could say would change that.

The red phone sitting on the American's desk abruptly started to ring. America jumped out of shock and said haltingly, "That's the phone to Moscow. This can't be good." Germany's interest was piqued, but he had no real reason to care about the little political squabbles between America and the Soviet Union. America put his hand on the phone and slowly pulled it to his ear, the red phone cord stretching out as he did so. Tentatively America said, "Hello?" There was a second of silence before America looked directly at Germany and tipped the earpiece slightly away from his ear. Germany could hear a very familiar voice ringing out of the earpiece, "You seem to have lost something, Alfred." Germany spoke before he could stop himself in a low whisper, "Gil."

* * *

GDR wrapped the phone cord absentmindedly around his finger as he spoke, "Hello. You seem to have lost something, Alfred." He smirked as the American on the other end of the line said, "So the U-2 went down. You won't get anything out of it." GDR tapped his heel against the desk, which he was currently sitting on, and felt a rising sense of triumph. He knew he could hurt his enemy on the other end of the phone. He said simply, "The pilot survived the crash."

* * *

America's whole body went stiff and Germany could see that he was unnerved. The German, however, was fixated on the voice coming out of the phone, his brother's voice. He wanted desperately to grab the phone out of America's hand and have a conversation with his brother. He wanted to tell Gilbert about 15 years of trivialities and concerns and have his brother listen to everything, just like they used to. They had had no secrets from each other for so long, and now Germany saw the chance to have it again so close.

America recovered from his shock and said, "Put Ivan on the phone, I won't bargain with a satellite state." Germany made a growling noise in the back of his throat, offended by America's disparaging remark about his brother. He didn't want to think of his brother as simply an extension of Russia, which was what America was suggesting. But, the American wasn't paying any attention to Germany; he was instead waiting for a response to his biting comment.

* * *

GDR didn't bother to be offended; he didn't care what the country that was the epitome of capitalism thought of him. He was Russia's satellite state; he had no illusions about the fact and was certainly not upset about it. Russia's possession was comforting; it affirmed that GDR had a place where he was wanted and where he for the other demand, he responded, "Ivan is dealing with your pilot. You might want to make a deal quickly. Ivan can be very _persuasive_ and I would know." He started to chuckle as he thought about the incidents he was referring to in the last word. He added, "Who knows, maybe we will be able to make him a loyal communist."

* * *

Germany felt a chill race down his spine when his brother's voice rolled over the word persuasive. There was something very obviously different about his brother and he couldn't say what it was. America's teeth were clenched and Germany could tell that the younger blonde was attempting to keep himself from saying something that would cause Prussia to hang up. America's hands were so tightly clenched into fists that his knuckles were turning white. He spoke, finally releasing his clenched teeth, "Tell me, Gilbert, what does it feel like to sell your soul to the devil? Are you still proud when he has you on your knees?"

Germany tried to say something to stop the insults that Alfred was raining down on his brother. But as soon as the first half-formed syllables of the words escaped his lips, America, who was now standing and pacing, waved him away. This was the state that the American always worked himself into when he was talking to a communist nation and it normally didn't bother Germany, but he could feel his heart sinking as America willfully drove the wedge between him and his brother farther in.

* * *

GDR didn't feel genuinely stung by this insult either. He did object to the American pig calling his lover the devil, but it didn't matter. America could hang on to his illusions about winning on a grand scale, but when the time came GDR knew that he and his lover would have their way eventually. On the other side of the room, the door opened and Russia walked through it. GDR's felt a warm smile spread across his face at the sight and he saw a matching smile appear on his lover's face. Russia immediately walked over to the desk where GDR was sitting. Russia put his hand lightly on the lower part of the phone before leaning in and kissing GDR's lips. It was not a lusty kiss; it was a soft kiss of greeting. When their lips parted, GDR whispered softly, "Welcome back, Vanya." The other put his hand softly and protectively on GDR's thigh. He responded in a voice just as quiet, "Thank you, bunny. I hope I haven't been gone for too long. Is that Alfred on the phone?"

GDR nodded and moved the red phone away from his head. Russia didn't take the phone immediately, instead he asked with genuine concern, "He didn't try to convert you, did he?" GDR laughed and leaned forward so he was closer to Russia and looked straight into those endless violet eyes. He said, a laugh still in his voice, "He didn't even try. I think he thinks I'm a lost cause. He already knows I belong to you."

Russia moved the hand that was on the voice-piece of the phone to take a hold of the phone. GDR handed the phone over with no resistance. Russia put it to his ear and said, "You want to deal with me, Alfred? Here I am, let's deal." As he started talking, Russia turned around so that his back was to the desk, but he still had his hand on his lover's leg. GDR leaned over and rested both of his hands and his chin on Russia's shoulder. The Russian angled the phone slightly away from his ear so that his lover could hear the conversation.

America's irritating voice sounded through the phone, "About time. I hope you're proud of what you did to Prussia. You really fucked with his mind." GDR was rather unperturbed by the comment; America's opinion had very little to do with him. But he felt Russia's hand tighten on his thigh. Russia responded coldly, "You don't get to say what I do with my own charges. Are you jealous, Alfred?"

America didn't seem to get the point that he needed to drop the topic, he continued, "Of you? Never. You're going to have to tell me how you turn a staunch Nazi into a staunch communist because I want to know." Ivan's hand tightened more to the point where it was slightly painful. Russia was breathing very deeply in through his nose in an attempt to calm himself. GDR understood the reason; nothing hurt Russia more than being reminded of Gilbert's betrayal during the Second World War.

GDR leaned forward and said in Russia's ear, "Please don't let him get to you. He's words don't mean anything." The Russian put his hand over the bottom of the phone again and turned his head to look at GDR. The German could see the pain in the depths of his eyes and it hurt him as well. Russia said, "Thank you for that, Gil. I don't know what I'd do without you." He then turned back to the phone and said, his voice completely cold and emotionless, "This isn't about my East Germany. This is about your plane and your pilot. You were spying on me again and now the world is going to know it. There are two ways this could go: You can keep denying that you're spying again and I can execute him for espionage or you can admit it and he can come back to you after a short imprisonment. It's your choice."

* * *

America stopped moving and started biting into his lower lip. After a second of silence, he looked down at the floor, obviously defeated. Germany was on his feet, ready to fervently object to America throwing around the word Nazi. But the defeat that went through America's frame made it harder to say anything at all. America had stopped allowing Germany to hear the conversation when Russia had gotten on the phone. America said weakly into the phone, "Please give me a few moments to think about it." He laid the phone on its side on his desk and turned back to Germany. The American looked ashen and pale.

Germany looked down at the phone on the desk and thought about the way his brother's voice had recently come out of it. If he could get his brother back on the phone, he could talk to him, make him see sense. He refused to believe that the brother who had raised him could completely become a communist. He pointed to it and said, "Alfred, can I use that to talk to my brother?"

America looked at the phone doubtfully and then back at Germany, "I would say yes if you were actually going to be able to talk to your brother, but you wouldn't. Yes, Ivan may hand the phone to Gilbert, but you need to trust me when I say that the man that you would talk to is no longer your brother." The German immediately bristled, "What do you mean by that? He's always been my brother; he raised me."

The American slammed one hand into the desk in frustrated anger, "Weren't you listening? 'Maybe we will be able to make him a loyal communist'; he considers himself to be part of the Soviet block, that's perfectly clear. I let you listen so you could realize how far gone he is." Germany took a step back and started to shake his head. He refused to believe that his brother was out of his reach. He and Prussia had always been so close and not even the superpowers could alter their connection. If Prussia was acting this way, it was because he had to when Russia was watching him and he needed to do it for the sake of his own safety.

Finally he responded to the American, "You know I can't accept that. You don't know him the way I do; he isn't the sort of man who trades his loyalties so casually." Swiftly, America reached out and grabbed the phone and said into it, "Ivan, I need a few more minutes to make my decision. There is someone else here who would like to have some words with you." The blonde nodded briefly and then reached across the table to offer Germany the phone. The German looked at him questioningly and America responded to the look, "There you go. See if you can even convince him to let you talk to East Germany." Tentatively, Germany took the phone and said, "Hallo, Ivan."

* * *

Russia turned his head and looked at GDR, who was also surprised to hear his brother's voice come out of the phone. He could see the question in his lover's eyes. Russia mouthed, "That's Ludwig isn't it?" GDR nodded in response. Russia turned back to the phone, "Hello, West Germany, what do you want to talk to me about?" There was a moment of silence and then Germany said, "I want to talk to my brother. Please hand Gil the phone." Russia went completely still and responded quickly and coldly, "No, I forbid that."

GDR spoke in Russia's ear, "Come now Vanya, let me talk to my fascist brother. Let me tell him that I am completely loyal to you," He leaned in even closer and nipped lightly at his lover's earlobe in an attempt to be more persuasive. He saw goose bumps blossom on the other's neck. Russia put his hand over the bottom of the phone and turned to his lover. His voice had been cold, but his expression softened. When he spoke to GDR, his voice had also softened, "You would love that, wouldn't you, bunny? But, I don't trust his influence over you. He made you betray me, don't you remember? He leaned over and brushed his lips over GDR's in a very light kiss. He spoke again, "You have to trust me. You do don't you?" GDR nodded, "Of course I do."

Germany responded over the conversation, "Why not?" Russia turned back to the phone and said, keeping his voice cold and level, "Because I don't need you whispering your fascist lies in his ear." He heard an offended gasp from the other side of the phone. Russia tapped his finger lightly against the phone while he waited for a response.

Finally, Germany said, "Why don't you ask Gil what he thinks? I know he wants to talk to me." Russia absentmindedly moved his hand farther up Gilbert's thigh. He scoffed, but GDR could tell that there was no real amusement in it, "You know I can see through you. What you want is to have a united Germany. I will not let you try to corrupt Gilbert. Red is a good color on him, and I intend to keep him right here by my side." GDR whispered in his lover's ear, "Tell him I don't want to go back. I won't be his subordinate again." Russia laughed, not bothering to cover the phone, "He won't go back to you. Hand the phone over to Alfred, his time to decide is up."

* * *

Germany was standing stock still trying to deal with the anger that was bubbling up in his throat. He suddenly understood why talking to a communist nation made America so mad. It had been worse than talking to a wall, it was likening talking to a wall that knew his desires and his fears. He numbly took the phone away from his ear and silently made to hand the phone to America. The other looked at the phone and then said, "So, are you satisfied?" Germany silently nodded. America seemed satisfied that he had made his point and took the phone back. As soon as he had it at his ear again he said, "You have it your way. I'll admit that I'm spying."

* * *

After he got the answer, Russia hung up the phone. After doing so, he turned around again and looked directly at GDR. The albino reached back and located a wooden box, which he then opened and took a cigarette out of. Russia took a lighter out of his pocket and put it to the cigarette as GDR put it to his lips. Russia smirked and said, "Now that I'm in a good mood, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?" GDR took a long pull from the cigarette and exhaled as he said, "I'm sure that you already know that I'm having a problem with people going to West Berlin. I need you to do something to stop it; I can't keep hemorrhaging people this way." Russia finally put his other hand to GDR's face and said, "Actually I've been thinking about that quite a bit recently. How do you feel about a wall?"


	2. Partial Treatment

Lithuania laid down his card in the center of the table and looked up at Estonia, who had his glasses on the end of his nose. The three Baltic States were sitting around a table in the central living room of the house that encompassed the entirety of the Soviet Union playing a game of cards. The card game was a way of finding a time and place to talk without the watchful eyes of Russia. However, the use of this tactic was probably less necessary right now than it had been in the past because Russia hadn't been roaming the halls as he usually did. The loud complaint of springs, the banging of a headboard against a wall, and the series of groans and loud moans echoing off the walls all made it perfectly clear what was occupying his time.

Each of the Baltic States had been in the same position that Prussia was in right now, so they tried to just block out the constant screams and moans. There was nothing to be done about it and certainly there was no way to stop it. What Russia wanted was exactly what he got and no one was fool enough to try and change that. For Lithuania, the sounds were strangely soothing. He had wanted to see both halves of Germany suffer for what they had done in the Second World War. To hear what was happening to Prussia gave Lithuania a sense of closure, so it was easy to ignore whatever sympathy he could have felt.

None of the people at the card table noticed that the cacophony had stopped until a certain albino walked into the room. His demeanor was not exactly what anyone would expect; it seemed upbeat. Prussia was walking with a reasonably even gate; there was even something of a swagger to the way he was walking. When he sat down, everyone at the table turned to look at the German, who said, "Would you mind dealing me in?" His tone was casual, as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening. This unnerved everyone else at the table, because the constant attention by Russia should be enough to break anyone down. However, none of the Baltic States knew just what to say, so Estonia laid down cards on the table in front of Prussia.

Lithuania exchanged glances with Estonia, who was sitting across the table from him. However, Lithuania refused to look at Prussia. Looking at that country would make him both sick and unbearably angry. It would remind him of the time he had spent, and was still spending, nursing Felix back to health. He knew the man who had just sat down at the table was the reason for all of the pain that Poland had gone through. The sudden war, the flattening of Warsaw, and the massive civilian casualties had all been Prussia's fault. It was the albino's lust for power and war that had destabilized all of Europe. For that reason, he refused to even look in Prussia's direction. Lithuania stared resolutely at his cards after seeing Estonia shake his head slightly. The gesture was apparently a rebuke to the thoughts of vengeance that were now surfacing in Lithuania's mind.

Latvia was the first to speak in a soft voice, "It gets better, that's all I can say." Prussia turned his head slightly towards the smaller man as if he was about to speak, but he said nothing. Estonia made a slight gesture for Lithuania to look over, which he did only surreptitiously. His attention was immediately brought to a grotesque series of red bite marks that was scattered across the albino's neck. It looked as though Prussia had been through a mauling unlike anything any of the others had experienced. This sight triggered a slight shudder of revulsion to pass through Lithuania's body. It was accompanied by a feeling that almost felt like pity. He knew what that kind of violation was like and it shouldn't be imposed on anyone. Even with Prussia's crimes, it was hard to say he deserved it. Lithuania pushed the arrant feeling away, he need only remind himself of Felix, gaunt, beaten and bruised, at the end of the war to remind himself exactly what Prussia deserved.

Estonia followed Latvia's statement with his own, "Ivan will eventually tire and then he will only want this every so often. It will never stop completely and we are all sorry about that." Prussia was contemplating the pair of them with a very strange expression, somewhere between amusement and confusion. To fill the time between the statements and the answer he apparently didn't want to give, he removed a card from his own hand and laid it on top of the pile. Lithuania flushed; the card could be an excellent choice depending on what else he had in his hand. Estonia stared at the card for a second and then looked back at his own hand. He seemed to decide that it was better to pursue the conversation, so he said, "You need to know that this isn't a situation unique to you. You aren't the only one who has suffered."

Lithuania scoffed and the sound finally drew everyone's attention to him. He spoke, still not looking up at Prussia, "Why don't we all stop acting like he doesn't deserve this." Prussia immediately stiffened, but a smirk curled over his lips. When he spoke, his voice had changed to a drawl, "That's bold of you Toris. Pity you weren't this aggressive when the war started." He stopped for dramatic effect while Lithuania seethed. Then he leaned forward and said, "It might have helped Felix." That was enough to make Lithuania spring to his feet, saying as he did so, "Say that one more time, Nazi!"

His outburst did nothing to wipe the smirk off of the albino's face. The other two people at the table looked on nervously, wondering if there was a way to diffuse the situation without physically restraining Lithuania. It only got worse when Prussia responded, "How about I tell you how I made your lover get on his hands and knees and kiss my boots?" Estonia and Latvia both had the presence of mind to stand up and restrain Lithuania, who lunged forward at once. He had no weapon in his hand, but that didn't matter. He wanted to inflict as much pain as possible on Prussia with his bare fists. For a couple seconds, he couldn't even come up with words. Prussia's smirk turned into a full smile as he watched the scene in front of him. He said softly, "It's amazing what you can get people to do with a little painful persuasion."

Lithuania was finally able to spit back, "Brave words from a man that has spent the last few weeks getting raped!" Prussia's white eyebrow shot up and he said, "Oh?" Before the mystifying word could be explained, a telltale sound permeated the air. Russia's thick-soled boots had a very distinctive thud, which was ringing out in the hallway. All three of the Baltic States went still. They quickly sat back down just as Russia walked into the room. It would be potentially disastrous to have Russia and discover they were fighting among themselves. Fighting violated the idea of communist unity, which Russia always tried to maintain even if it was feigned.

Russia was wearing a pair of pants and a shirt, but it was not in order. The first few buttons were unbuttoned and the rest did not line up fully. The pants had creases that wouldn't exist unless they had spent all night crumpled up on the floor. Even with the disorder of his dress, his aura was enough to keep the Baltics sitting resolutely, although Prussia was still smirking. The smirk made very little sense especially when Russia walked straight over to the albino. He put his hands on Prussia's shoulders. He ignored the Baltics and leaned forward to whisper in the albino's ear, "So this is where you hopped off to. I wondered when I woke up without you."

Everyone else at the table shivered in unison as the Russian's lips brushed against the albino's ear. That kind of closeness felt completely wrong. The albino smiled and responded, "I needed some breathing room." Russia moved one hand from the albino's shoulder to right under his chin. He said, now loud enough for the Baltics to hear the words clearly, "Look in my eyes and say that again." He used his hand to gently turn Prussia's head so that their eyes met. In that moment, Prussia's face fell into a neutral expression. It was like Russia's eyes and his words entranced him.

Slowly, he shook his head to negate his earlier statement. The Russian smiled his usual deranged smile and it sent another collective round of shivers around the table. Lithuania now looked up to see Prussia's reaction. The albino hadn't reacted to the expression with horror, as he should have. Instead, he put his hand softly against Russia's face. The taller man's hands started to move. One started unbuttoning the albino's shirt while the other ran down the newly exposed flesh. As he did that, he moved his lips to the white neck that he could just reach over the low back of the chair. The albino arched as the other's lips glided down his neck. None of the Baltics could quite believe what they were watching. Surely there should still be fight left in such a militant country, but there was no resistance to Russia's invasive touch.

Latvia, always the one with the least discression, cleared his throat rather loudly. Russia's head jerked up and his attention immediately shifted to the three nations across the table. His face darkened, "How can you choose to leave me alone for these three?" His eyes were fixed directly on Lithuania, who recoiled from the ice in the glare. Lithuania shifted his gaze to Russia's hand, which had tightened possessively on Prussia's shoulder. Prussia's red eyes melted when he looked up at Russia and said, "I regret the decision already." Russia kept his gaze on the Baltics and it looked like he was weighing punishment. He said, his voice unbearably cold, "Come back to my room, Gilbert. These people are beneath you."

Prussia nodded and stood up again. He left the room with Russia's arm wrapped tightly around his waist. The room was left in oppressive silence, only broken when Latvia leaned towards the others and said, "Did that strike you as really wrong." Estonia said, in a voice that sounded like it was trying to force rationality on a situation that was decidedly not rational, "Gilbert must have been acting. There's no way to explain it otherwise. Prussia wouldn't just yield like that." But, Lithuania saw something disturbing in the encounter, something masquerading as love. It had been present in the caresses and in the looks that passed between the two. He said, his voice catching slightly in his throat, "No, he's not acting and things are about to get much worse."

-10 years later-

Russia had dinner set up outside on the balcony in the rare warmth of Moscow summer because he was expecting company. He was sitting staring at the plates of food waiting for his lover. Lithuania was finishing setting up the other place at the table when GDR came strolling up, his boots clicking against the wood floor. Russia smiled as he admired the fit of the grey uniform and the way the red accents perfectly complimented the ruby eyes. Lithuania quickly turned to leave, nearly running directly into GDR as he did so. The Baltic man attempted a courteous gesture, but it only turned out to be a stiff nod, and then he stepped to the side to allow the other to walk by. The German coolly kept walking, but when he sat down he swept off his hat and slammed it angrily onto the table.

Russia could see the anger turning hard in his lover's eyes. He was about to ask what the problem was when the German said, "Did you see the way he looked at me?" Russ shook his head, in all honesty he hadn't see Lithuania's face. But, if it offended his lover so much, it was punishable. Lithuania seemed to lost his sense of caution and had been getting himself into a lot of trouble lately.

GDR continued, "Every time he looks at me I see the accusation: whore. He looks at me like I am the most disgusting thing on Earth." Russia leaned over and grabbed a bottle of vodka; he poured himself and his lover both a shot. He said authoritatively, "Take a drink, it will steady you. I can deal with Toris later." GDR picked up the glass and downed it in one gulp. He slammed it back down on the table, "It isn't just him. It's Latvia, Estonia, and your sisters. If they're a Soviet republic, they hate me." Russia sighed and downed his own shot of vodka. He wanted to say he had a solution that would placate GDR, but he didn't. So, he said, "Come closer, Gil" It was an order, not a request. GDR took it as such and obediently scooted his chair closer to the other. He also leaned forward so that there was very little space between them.

The Russian put his hand on the albino's cheek, "Don't listen to what they say, bunny. It's jealousy talking. They are all inferior to me, just parts of my Soviet Union. You are a republic in your own right, my beautiful GDR." The albino attempted to answer, "I know that, Vanya. But-" Russia put his finger to the other's lips, "I'm not done yet. More importantly, you're my greatest ally and the only one I trust." GDR leaned into the caress on his cheek, which was incredibly comforting. He said, his voice heavy with emotion, "But don't you hear it, see it. In their eyes I can see what they think: you're promoting an unremitting Nazi whose only virtue is that he's good in bed."

Russia's eyes darkened several shades. The subject of Nazism, especially in relation to his lover was exceptionally sensitive to him. He reached out and grabbed Prussia's free hand, which was resting on the table. His voice came out icy cold, "If anyone calls you a Nazi, I will personally see to it that their grain quotas are higher than production. Starvation seems to keep people in order." GDR smiled, but Russia could tell that he was still bothered. He solved it the only way he could think of. He pulled the albino into a long deep kiss. Lithuania stood just out of sight. He had returned to bring another bottle of vodka. He hissed at the shameless display, but there was nothing he could do and this had long since been the reality and it wasn't going to change.


	3. True Love

_A/N: This is a songfic, so I highly recommend listening to True Love by Thou Shalt Not. I never thought I would find a song to do a songfic with this pairing, but this one hit me with absurd amounts of snow bunny feels so I had to write a oneshot with it._

* * *

Russia was standing in the small drawing room by himself, trying to order his own thoughts. The last year had been endlessly confusing for him. He had gone from having the man he had loved for years in manacles to having an enemy he had despised it his bed. It had all been a rollercoaster of emotions, all the screams of pain and moans of ecstasy. Naturally, Russia had kept his demeanor completely cold and icy. It would be dangerous to let Prussia, now East Germany, know how deep the feelings really went. Russia could pretend that it was only lust, but he knew better; these were affections that went back centuries.

Russia sighed and tried to clear his thoughts by walking around the room, although his long strides made the circle around the room very short. He then walked to the widow and pulled back one of the draperies. The world outside was dark, the sun having already set and left nothing but a red glow on the very edge of the horizon. Russia had lost track of how late in the day it really was.

His mind had been fixed so fully on the moment that was fast approaching that he hadn't spared a moment to check the time. Now that he realized his fixation was costing him a sense of time, he glanced over at the clock. He realized with a sinking feeling that he no longer had time to kill. The door on the other side of the room swung open and Prussia walked through it.

_In walks the villain of this tale, the door closing silent behind you_

The albino looked very good considering how much he had been through since the end of the war. There was still a certain look of hollowness behind his eyes, a remnant of starvation and torture. The grey uniform of East Germany was brand new, and it was a perfect fit. Russia had based the uniform that he had found Prussia most irresistible in. But, at the moment he regretted that decision. In the dappled light that was thrown by the lights in the room, the grey seemed to fade to black and the uniform was once again that of the SS, the exact uniform that Prussia had worn when he betrayed Russia. The old anger again came to the surface of his mind. It was hard to push it back down. The war was over and Prussia had been punished for his sins already.

Russia had to keep what he was feeling to himself, it was imperative that Prussia thought he was manipulative and unfeeling. Only then would he be able to maintain control over the man. So, with this in mind he looked directly at Prussia with a slight smile carefully placed on his lips.

_I smile and offer you something to drink._

There was already a bottle and a pair of glasses sitting on the table. The liquor of choice was vodka, as was usual. It was prevalent and it was strong, both of which made it ideal for this sort of social situation where so much was buried just beneath the surface. More importantly, it made Russia feel comfortable. All of this belonged to him, including the drinks and including the man who was now sitting right next to him on the couch, one leg crossed over the other. He spoke as he poured out two glasses of vodka, "It has been a while, Gil. Here, drink this. Then tell me how matters in Leipzig are going." The light fell over the albino's face and revealed a smirk.

_In hopes that a taste will remind you._

The expression, the position, and the trick of the light on the uniform all harkened back to another exchange, which was more than a decade ago now. Russia had trusted completely and utterly, like a child, and that was perhaps what made him the maddest. The albino had lied beautifully, using exactly the right words to play Russia's feelings for him.

_That poison tastes better with grenadine, that deceit's always lovely with lime_

The albino reached over the small space between them and took one of the glasses of vodka, and as he took it, his fingers brushed against the skin of Russia's hand. The touch was soft and thrilling, enough to make small sparks dance over the Russian's skin. But, his mind was still fixed on a different situation at a different time. He was thinking of the way he had laid his hand on the other's face. It had been the first real romantic contact they had had and it had been a lie. Russia had held onto that contact with hope right up until the moment Prussia had put a gun to him.

_That bitterness can be so sweet, when it is served in the right place and at the right time._

The pain of the betrayal came bubbling back up to the surface again, just as it had over and over again since he had taken control of East Germany. He turned his attention back to the present, or at least tried to. Prussia was still looking at him with his eyes still full of something that looked very much like affection. But, Russia didn't trust the emotion; he had been fooled by false adoration before. The albino took a drink before responding to the order he had been given, "As you wish, Ivan. America has accepted the idea that the division between East and West is permanent. My brother doesn't seem to share the same realism."

Russia comprehended the words, but they meant nothing to him. He had already heard the news and had asked simply for the sake. He responded with a question that would likely come across as a test, "And how do you feel about it?"  
The red eyes narrowed slightly, as though attempting to process the question. Russia could see the man measuring his response carefully before saying, "What do you mean?"

Although, he thought he had been perfectly clear the first time, Russia clarified, "How do you feel about being permanently separated from your capitalist brother? About being mine forever?"  
Prussia took another drink before leaning forward and responding, his voice strong and confident, "I wouldn't want it any other way. I believe in the strength of our ideology." Russia couldn't help but wonder how much of this was genuine, it certainly sounded genuine. He had to think that part of it had to be brainwashing and part of it had to be fear.  
Again, he looked directly at Prussia and with another contrived smile, said, "Well, let's drink to our eventual victory."

_And we'll toast to a lifetime of happiness_

They both took another drink in complete silence. It was the first time Russia had taken a drink in the conversation, and the alcohol did less to steady him than he had hoped. He noticed that the albino had uncrossed his legs and leaned slightly forward, which was sending him a very subtle message about what the other wanted. Russia knew he should have been happy with these signs of lust and vocalizations of loyalty, but he couldn't stop himself from wanting something more, something deeper.

But, he was also wary of the way his feelings could be used against him as had happened before. He gently put one hand on the albino's thigh; the skin was warm, even through the layers of cloth. The gesture was meant to express a possibility, not a certainty. Prussia shifted slightly closer, apparently responding to the touch. He spoke, "We're not the only communist countries having an affair, you know."

It was a piece of banter, but the lighthearted nature could help the conversation. Russia already knew whom Prussia was talking about; he wasn't completely oblivious to the relationships between his other satellite states. He continued the banter, "Poland and Lithuania do seem to enjoy each other's company."  
The albino responded immediately with a slight laugh, "I always thought Lithuania preferred men." The sharp witty comment was exactly what Russia had always liked about Prussia, that careless disdain.  
He responded with a laugh and said, moving his hand farther up the other's thigh, "You have a cruel wit, Gil."

_And we'll catch up on mutual friends. Yes, we'll laugh with good cheer and not mention that we're just a means to each of our ends._

They were very close together now and Prussia was looking directly up into Russia's violet eyes. He responded again with a teasing smile, "I thought that was what you liked about me." Russia felt a chill rush over his skin at the tone of the statement. He could see lust in the way that the albino's body was reacting. He first put down the almost entirely untouched glass of vodka down on the table before he moved his unoccupied hand to the albino's cheek. If he were totally expressive, Russia would break down now and tell Prussia about the way his heart was pounding in his chest right now.

His worries about this relationship, about being deceived again were disappearing in the pure rush of emotions. Desperate, reckless feeling was rising to the surface and it was all Russia could do to repress it. He responded in a level voice, "That is true. I've missed you the past few days, Gil." He hadn't meant to add the last part, but it had slipped out all the same. It was certainly true. Russia had sent the albino back to East Germany for the past few days in order to officially establish a communist regime. However, during that time he had found himself missing having someone next to him in bed.

_And by midnight you'll be so convinced that all of our time apart was some mistake_

Prussia responded, "I missed you too," He paused for a moment and then added softly, "master." Russia's already palpitating heart sped up still more, because the other had just used the title that the Russian had trained him to use. It was a sign of actual devotion, of actual love, that Russia couldn't ignore. His last ounce of caution failed him and he closed the space between them, finally connecting their lips. He wrapped his arms around Prussia, comforted by just feeling the body so tactile and so reactive.

_I'll hold you, my love, and never let go. I'll hold you, my love, and never tire._

This was exactly what he wanted, having the warmth of Prussia pressed against him. Russia was still getting used to the idea of being able to kiss this man, who had always seemed so unreachable, so freely. There was still something surreal, even unbelievable about this moment. To take advantage of the position, he pressed his tongue into the other's mouth. The taste was not what he had always expected when he had fantasized about the albino. It was both softer and sweeter than he had ever imagined. As he deepened the kiss, he felt the other climb onto his lap. The weight was oddly comforting. They eventually broke apart, only so that both of them could pull in deep unsteady breaths.

_I'll hold you, my love, by the throat. I'll hold you, my love, over the fire._

As he looked up at those ruby eyes and an unbidden memory came back. He remembered the same eyes mocking him from Leningrad. The rage came flooding back. He put one hand to the pale skin of the other's throat. With one hand, he could have crushed the life out of Prussia. But, he had already tried that once. He had been physically unable to do it, even in the heat of battle, even when the wounds of war were still unhealed.

So, instead he caressed the neck and moved down to Prussia's collar, which he unbuttoned. Both of the albino's hands were now on Russia's shoulders, and the hold was firm. But, it was also clear that he was used to allowing the Russian dominance, so he patiently waited as Russia unbuttoned the front of the uniform to allow him to have access to the porcelain chest. Once the front of the uniform was completely open, the Russian carefully grabbed one of the pink nipples. He knew by now that Prussia's chest was sensitive, more so than most men even.

He twisted the nipple just enough to elicit a breathy moan. The masochist in Prussia was so very easy to thrill with pain. The moan was beautifully submissive, helpless even. Russia watched as the other reacted, the slight arch of the back, the delicate trembling of the lower lip. The breaths that followed the initial moan were shallow and quick. Russia leaned in still closer so his lips were only inches from the other's.

_So breathe with me, love; only love will work now_

Suddenly a glint appeared in the half-lidded red eyes. Without any warning, Prussia took the initiative and slammed their lips back together. The battle of tongues commenced again, Russia allowing the other to think that he was winning for a moment. The boldness amused him; it was the trademark of a country that was used to military conquest. With his lips still occupied, the Russians attention was then drawn to the albino's nimble pale hands, one of which had worked itself up the back of Russia's neck and buried itself in the ash blonde hair. The grip was strong, almost possessive; it was as if Prussia was claiming Russia as fully as Russia had claimed him.

_Hold onto my love like it was stolen._

The albino disengaged his lips only long enough to hoarsely whisper, "I have missed your touch, Vanya." Russia recaptured the albino's lips instead of giving a response. His passion was free now and he could do what he pleased, what he had always wanted to be able to do. He pulled Prussia even more firmly into his lap. With his only free hand, the albino unbuttoned Russia's shirt.

Only once the shirt was completely open, did Prussia pull out to the kiss. Russia wasn't necessarily disappointed, but he was intrigued by the action. Before, he had been completely in control of the encounter, but this was actually more thrilling. Prussia smirked once before leaning over and kissing down the Russian's neck. Between the soft kisses and the unmistakable grinding of Prussia's hips against him, Russia's blood was on fire. But, being dominated by the German also brought up a set of more violent emotions. He thought of the Nazi, the vicious man who had done so much damage over so much of Europe. His feelings of rage mixed with the lust into one driving need to dominate. He could have control, he could prove that he had won.

_I burn with your love like I was Burkinau _

The urge to dominate overpowered Russia's senses and he had no choice but to act upon it. He grabbed the albino and flipped the pair of them over so that he was on top. His hands were shaking as he unbuttoned his own pants and slipped them off.

Then, as he captured Prussia's lips with his own, effectively swallowing all objections to this change of positions, he did the same to the German's pants. He ran his hands over the alabaster skin and folded the legs around his waist. Prussia had melted under the Russian's touch and was now completely pliable.

_I'll conquer your love like you were Poland_

Russia knew that the albino's neck was sensitive, so he made use of it. He broke away from the kiss and started to kiss down the white neck. Russia could taste the sheen of sweat on Prussia's skin. Between moans and gasps, the albino managed to say, "Stop teasing me!" But, he had no right to command from the position he was in. Russia was eager, but he wanted to prolong this experience. He had wanted to have Prussia like this for so long, he didn't want this to be over quickly.

He leaned in closer and whispered in the other's ear, "What was that, my pet?" The Russian moved his hand down the inside of the albino's thigh, eliciting a shiver from the man. Prussia tried again, "Just do it. Just take me." It was still an order, but it was enough for now. As gently as he possibly could with violent passion racing through his veins, Russia pushed into the other. Without preparation, he knew how much this would hurt, but that was part of the point. This was not supposed to be all soft touches.

_I'll act on my love like Pontius Pilate_

The albino arched and groaned, his chest pressing against Russia's. Russia could feel the heart racing right against his own. The twin beats complimented each other perfectly, and it was with this biological metronome that Russia set his pace.

He started slowly, making slow thrusts that made the albino groan and shake against him. But, his restraint soon broke and he accelerated his movements. He knew that the best way to finish off Prussia was to engage his masochistic side, so he moved his mouth to the nipple he had been teasing earlier. Russia then sunk his teeth into the skin of the chest until he could taste blood on his tongue.

_I'll give you my love like I was Brutus_

That was enough for Prussia to only need a thrust or two more to come. The tightening of the albino around him finished off Russia. But he refused to let this be the end, not yet, so he didn't pull out yet. He could feel heat radiating off of the white skin in waves. The skin itself was covered with a sheen of sweat, and the albino's chest was heaving with the effort of pulling in deep breaths. Russia vaguely wondered if he was in the same state. He could feel his own hair sticking to his forehead.

_I'll radiate love like Three Mile Island_

Without thinking about maintaining his control, Russia said, "I love you, Gil." He wanted to take the words back as soon as they left his mouth. But when Prussia's red eyes met his, they were full of emotion, completely unreadable emotion.

The albino responded with a smile, almost a smirk, "I love you too, I thought you already knew." The words ignited something in Russia's chest, it burned warm and pleasant. He hadn't thought what it would be like to have this affection returned and it was a wonderful glow. A completely genuine smile spread across his lips. He didn't speak; instead he leaned over and joined their lips again.

_I'll prove my love like I was Judas._

* * *

_A/N: I hope you enjoyed another little insight into Russia. Please review ^-^_


	4. Iron Curtain

Prussia sighed contentedly and snuggled closer. Russia's chest was warm and rising and falling as he slept. The albino laid his head flat against the other's chest and closed his eyes. He could hear the heart beating steadily with an indomitable strength. All those Western countries who said Russia had no heart did not know how serene and beautiful this sound could be. Prussia felt his own heart fall in line with the Russian's strong steady beats. Every so often, the Russian would let out a slight snore that sounded like the purring of a large cat. It was a charming sound that the albino could feel reverberate through his chest.

It was comfortable, warm, and impossibly serene. If Prussia could freeze this moment, he would. He felt completely safe, completely secure. But, inevitably the moment would change and both of them would have to face the judgmental stares again. The Baltics would judge them, his sisters would judge them, the West would judge them more harshly than anyone else. But, for this moment none of that mattered.

A hand softly touched the back of the albino's head, stroking his hair. Sleepily, Russia said, "Look at the little rabbit I've caught."  
Prussia responded with a playful smile, "I've heard that rabbits make good pets. They're very loyal." Russia's fingers were running softly through his hair, his fingertips brushing against his scalp. Prussia let out a soft sound of contentment and nuzzled against the hand.  
Russia spoke, his voice still heavy with sleep, "I don't have any complaints about mine." He leaned down and kissed the top of the albino's head and added, "He's so beautiful and so loyal." Prussia felt a slight warmth mount his cheeks at the compliment, even though he had heard the words before.

The Russian moved his hand slowly down the side of his lover's face. His touch was soft, like he was holding onto something fragile and precious. He spoke again his lips still pressed lightly against the albino's hair, "I want to see all of you." Prussia knew exactly what the other was talking about. Soft sheets and blankets were covering him to the mid-back, covering up most of his body. But, he was warm enough from Russia's body heat to not object to the blankets being pulled away.  
He was more than willing to let his lover look him over. He responded, "Ask me nicely, Vanya, and I'll let you see whatever you want."

It was a playful comment, but he meant it as an affirmation that Russia could push back the blankets. Russia smiled and responded, "I want to see that lovely white skin of yours." He pulled back the sheets, laying Prussia completely bare before his eyes. A sweet, childish smile appeared on his face.  
The albino couldn't stop himself from responding to it with wit, "You look pleased. Am I that perfect?" Russia gave him a look that clearly said he would not respond to that with a compliment. Instead he took two fingers and walked them like a pair of tiny legs up Prussia's back.  
He explained his actions with a sweet whisper, "You have this trail up your back."

Prussia immediately replied, "It's your fault." He meant that Russia had left all of the bite marks on him the night before. His meaning wasn't lost.  
Russia smirked and said, "Oh I am aware of that. If I didn't leave marks, how would I know you are mind. That's why they make me so happy."

He moved his hand further up the albino's back and paused at his shoulder. His smile widened further. Prussia didn't have to ask why, because Russia said, "This one is my favorite. It's shaped like Belarus."  
Prussia smirked and replied, "She won't be very happy about that." It was easy to be mocking about Russia's sister when she wasn't there. It would not be as easy with her there, glaring at them both jealously.

Russia ran his finger around the edge of the love bite he had been talking about. He ignored what the albino had said, "See, it is exactly her borders. Minsk is right here." He put his finger in the middle of the bite mark with an amused smile.  
Prussia responded again, "Why couldn't you give me a hickey shaped like your sane sister?"  
Russia replied with the same amused smile, "I don't think I have one of those."

Prussia shifted his position against his lover so that his chest was pressed flat against Russia's. He then said, "They're still better than those wimps you keep around. At least Natalia would stab me in the front."

The other sighed and a look of melancholy passed over his face. The emotion darkened his voice, "You're probably right." He paused for a moment and then smiled again, "How about you and I just stay here? We don't have to go out and see any of them." Russia's hand found Prussia's hip and tightened on the flesh. There was something profoundly comforting about the contact and the albino didn't mind the bruises the fingers might leave.  
He replied, "I would gladly agree to that."

He then leaned forward and kissed the middle of Russia's chest. The Russian's eyes were glowing as he looked down at his lover. He didn't need to say anything, when Prussia's red eyes met his own, they both smiled softly. Russia said, "Why do I need the entire Soviet Union when I have you?"

Prussia opened his mouth to respond, but a sharp knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He knew what the sound was, but he begrudged it anyway. He wanted to stay here wrapped up in Russia's big arms. This was comfortable and Ivan was looking at him with such adoration. As soon as that door opened, all the politics and the judgment would return. He knew that this had to be Russia's order, so he looked at his lover questioningly.

The Russian sighed and said, "It appears that Toris is here. We do actually have to go to the UN meeting." Prussia echoed the sigh and slowly started to sit up. As he did so, Lithuania pushed open the door. The knock had been little more than a perfunctory warning. He already knew what state he was going to find both of them in. But, entering without the knock would surely warrant punishment. Lithuania's green eyes quickly surveyed the pair before returning to the ground. Prussia felt himself smirk at the sight of the Baltic country being so deferent. He was aware of the fact that if he was alone, Lithuania would meet his eyes. But, with Russia here the man would not dare. It was intoxicating to have that kind of submission. Prussia was tempted to walk over and test how firm Lithuania's control really was.

Russia glanced over at him and seem to understand the smirk. He leaned over and said softly in the albino's ear, "You can torment him later." The albino rolled his eyes, but he meant it as a sarcastic gesture.  
He added, "You have all the fun."  
The Russian responded in the same soft tone, quietly enough that it was hard to say if Lithuania could hear it, "You seemed pretty pleased last night." The comment was so typical that the albino had to scoff.

He then looked at Lithuania again, finally turning his attention to what the Baltic man was holding. It appeared to be a garment bag. He should have expected as much; he knew he needed a suit for the meeting. But, he had brought one with him. Russia released his hold on the albino and got out of bed. Prussia couldn't help but feel a slight sinking feeling as warm presence left his side. But, it was amusing to watch the way Russia grabbed a pair of pants and pulled them on before walking over to Lithuania and taking the garment bag from him. He then gestured to Prussia, "Come here, Gil. I want to show you this."

The albino's heart leaped slightly at the childish, expectant smile on the other's face. He would hate to disappoint that smile. He got out of bed, not bothering to grab anything to cover himself. Russia would enjoy the view and Lithuania wouldn't dare look. He walked over to where his lover was standing. Once Prussia reached him, Russia unzipped the bag, revealing a gray military uniform. Prussia felt a wide smile spread across his face. His militaristic heart started pounding in his chest. He could only say, "Is this for me?"

He didn't really need to ask though, it was clear that the uniform was in his size. Russia replied, obviously happy with the reaction, "I wasn't going to debut you to the world in civilian clothing. That isn't who you are. Put it on. I want to see how you look." Prussia reached out and touched the fabric, not yet taking hold of it. The uniform was stiff, just as it should be. The gesture was touching beyond words. It showed how well Russia's understood his lover's affinity for the military.  
Prussia said softly, "Thank you, Vanya."

Another flash of joy lit up Russia's face, but he didn't reply. He had already given his order and was waiting for it to be followed. The albino did not keep Russia waiting. He took the pants from where they were neatly folded over a hanger. After centuries of being ready for battle on a moments notice, it was easy to pull on pants and a shirt. As he adjusted his tie, Prussia looked back at Russia. He expected to see the other getting ready as well, but he was surprised to see that the Russian was standing, his hand casually on his hip, watching the albino dress. Prussia spoke as he finished straightening his tie, "Are you enjoying this? The opposite would be much sexier."

Russia's eyes raked over the albino's neatly dressed form. There was a hunger in his eyes that Prussia was learning to recognize. It was not lust yet, but it was the low smoldering flame that always preceded it. Russia's voice sounded a little rougher as he said, "I like watching you move." Prussia could feel the violet eyes burning into him, setting his skin on fire. He hadn't been thinking about the subtle movements he was making, or how appealing Russia could find them. He reached out and took the jacket of the uniform off of the hanger. He pulled it on and started to button it when Russia said, "Stop."

The albino's hands froze and he looked up. Russia had put down the bag and was holding a belt. He walked closer to the albino and said, "Let me do this part."  
Prussia smirked, "Do what you want." The Russian took another step forward and put one hand on the other's face.  
Then, he spoke again, his voice a deep purr now, "Let's do this in front of the mirror. I want you to see how perfect you look."

Prussia had to bite his tongue to stop himself from quipping about what else they could do in front of the mirror. He simply nodded and followed the order without a word. There was a full length mirror on one wall and Prussia walked towards it. He could see that Russia was following closely. He stopped when he could see himself clearly in the mirror. The grey fabric fit him perfectly, clinging to all his curves. It was a little loose around the waist, but the belt would soon remedy that. He looked like a soldier again, and the thought made him smirk. This was what he was meant to be, what he had always been. Even with the new communist identity, the core of his being was the same. His blood was iron, and it was pumping through him with renewed vigor.

Russia reached around his lover's waist and slipped the end of the belt into the buckle, pulling the albino against himself as he did so. The albino could feel the heat of the Russian's back pressed against him. The fabric was pulled in loosely around Prussia's waist, hinting at the shape of the body beneath it. Prussia felt one of his lover's hands on his waist, while the other slowly pulled the belt tighter. He slowly pulled in a breath as the belt constricted around him. He reached up and put his hand on the side of Russia's face. The Russian recognized the gesture and said, "Is that tight enough?"

Prussia smirked again, and he could see his own smirk reflected in the mirror. But, his eyes were drawn to the look of patient amusement on Russia's face. There was something exceptionally charming about it. Prussia responded, "That depends. If you want me to look presentable for the meeting, then yes. But, if you want to fuck me again, you know I can take more."

He saw a sadistic smile pass over Russia's face. The Russian laid a light kiss on the shell of the albino's ear, "That does sound tempting. But, unfortunately, we need to show our strength so Alfred knows he can't impose himself on the world." He buckled the belt and then let his hands linger on Prussia's waist, as though really regretting the proposition. He then took out the final piece of the uniform. He attached the silver aiguillette to the epaulette at the albino's shoulder and then moved his hand assertively across his chest. He hitched the other end to the button of the albino's jacket. Then, with a soft mischievous smile, Russia slipped his hand through the gap between the buttons and brushed his hand against the shirt underneath, teasing the nipple beneath the fabric. His hands knew what they were doing, and they were more than familiar with the sensitive spots on the albino's body.

Prussia saw his own face contort into a soundless moan. His body reacted to the touch, pressing itself against the other. Russia breathed in his ear, "You are so sexy in uniform." The albino looked at himself in the mirror through half-lidded eyes. His cheeks were flushed the dark, staining red that only his skin could turn. But, the uniform did look good on him. It bore a striking resemblance to the uniform he had worn under the Third Reich, but if that was what Russia preferred him in, then he would gladly wear it. Russia slowly pulled his hand out of the other's shirt, but didn't release him.

He continued to speak, "It suits you, don't you think?"  
The albino responded, "It looks familiar." Russia had a slight smile on his face as he placed one hand on the albino's hands and moved it to the buckle of the belt. He didn't explain his actions until Prussia's hand was firmly on the buckle.  
Only then did he say, "But, see how it has changed. Now you are mine. What symbols do you feel here?'

Prussia closed his eyes and felt the symbols on the belt buckle like it was brail. He voiced each as he recognized it, not yet speaking the importance, "Wheat, a hammer, and a compass." He slowly opened his eyes and turned to Russia.  
The violet eyes met his own and his voice melted as he said, "All very communist." There was no real surprise in the realization. But this was a physical manifestation of the relationship between them, and there was a feeling of deep belonging that came with it. Having the other's hands of his waist felt all the more right. The rest of the world could think whatever they wanted; Prussia loved this feeling of being owned. He would proudly wear the symbols of communism to show them all.  
Russia responded as though this was exactly what he wanted to hear, "Yes, now you look like my little soldier."

His voice was thick with possessive tension. He slid one hand down the albino's midriff, letting his fingers linger on each button. Prussia felt hypersensitive to every motion the other made. He was aware of the fact that Russia was still wearing practically nothing. Russia continued to breathe in his ear, "I've always wanted a little toy soldier of my own." Prussia felt another flash of heat against his skin. Russia's eyes were ravishing him through his clothing.

Russia paused as he looked at his lover and a realization hit him. He turned to the Baltic state who had not dared to leave the room and said, "Toris, bring the hat." The Baltic nation flinched at the sound of his own name. He had apparently hoped he had been forgotten. He took a hat box from the pile of things he had brought with him. He walked hesitantly towards the pair, his footsteps slow and unsure. The albino felt a smirk curl across his face as he watched the fear in the Baltic nations approached them. This was good; this was perfect. The Baltic man shuffled closer and extended the box the Russia, who took it almost tenderly. He opened it and took the officer's cap from it. The albino's heart skipped a beat as he recognized it. Russia took the hat and with one hand and used the other under the albino chin. Prussia didn't offer any resistance, he looked directly at the Russian and let himself be drawn into the other's violet eyes. Russia placed the hat softly on the other's head, then smiled. He brushed his hand against the albino's cheek. There was a purr in his throat as he said, "Now you look perfect."

There was a cunning light behind the violet eyes as Russia added, "I can't wait for Alfred to see you." Prussia was about to respond when Russia's face fell. It was a subtle expression, but he had gotten used to seeing it. Until now, the conversation had been playful and flirtatious.  
Prussia wasn't going to let this go unaddressed. He said, "Vanya, what is wrong?"  
Russia sighed, "This is more important than I told you." He took a breath while nervously fidgeting with Prussia's belt with the hand that had just been confidently roaming his body. Prussia could feel the change in his demeanor, and it was more than puzzling. He waited for the clarification that he was certain would come.

After a moment, Russia said, "I know Alfred is bringing your brother." In the mirror, Prussia could see the uncertainty in the way that lines appeared in his lover's forehead. The other continued, "I know what he's doing. Alfred wants to take you away from me and he'll use your brother to do it."

The albino drew in a sharp breath through his nose. He had every reason to hate America, but he had not thought the man would stoop this low. But, it was somehow still shocking to think that the man would use Ludwig's naiveté to fulfill his his own goals was sickening. He was struck again by the strong desire to protect his brother from whoever sought to use him. But, the treaty was signed and nothing could be done to alter it unless one of the superpowers was significantly weakened. He had no doubts which one it would be. But, how much damage was already done was an open question, one Prussia didn't particularly want to know the answer to. His imagination was likely underestimating it. This news did nothing to dissuade him that his brother was becoming a capitalist's tool.

He responded after turning the idea over several times in his mind, "Tell me what to do, Vanya. He is my brother, but I can't stand the thought of Alfred speaking through him. I taught him better than that." If Russia had already thought of a solution, than he had withheld it out of respect. But, Prussia felt completely comfortable allowing his lover to dictate the solution. Before the Russian answered, he pressed his lips to the exposed skin of the albino's neck. It was a gesture of affirmation, not lust.

He said, his usual confidence returning as he spoke, "Don't speak to him and you won't have to hear Alfred's words. Even if he approaches you, and I'm certain he will try, do not engage him. I will handle it if he tries." Prussia nodded, but it was a hard order to follow. He reasoned with himself: what could he say to persuade Ludwig in a few minutes? Would a few words matter? Likely they would not. His presence would be enough to remind Germany that he had family.

He said, elaborating on the nod, "That's probably for the best. I wish I could talk to him and convince him to see how corrupt and imperialist Alfred is." Russia seemed to have already prepared for this reaction.  
He said, his hands finally resting comfortably, "When we prevail, you will be able to reeducate him."  
Prussia could feel the other's breath on his neck as he spoke, "When the time comes, he will listen to you. But, now you shouldn't speak to him. He will lie to you, and I don't want to see you hurt because of him again."

The albino nodded to himself, still thinking through the idea. It would hurt to hear Capitalism on his brother's lips after the damage unfettered, imperialist, fascist capitalism had done. He sighed to himself. Russia was right, and he would willingly accept the limitation. Slowly, he turned so that he was facing the Russian, placing both of his hands firmly on the man's bare chest. The affirmation that was already perfectly clear slipped smoothly from his lips, "I won't speak to him, Vanya. I won't say a word until you tell me I can."  
Russia smiled before saying, "Good boy."  
Without another word, he pressed his lips to the albino's, communicating his approval through intimacy. Prussia could feel in the touch that his choice was entirely correct, the few doubts he had faded into a haze. Speaking as he pulled away, Russia said, "I need to get dressed, then we will give Alfred a show."

* * *

Germany had no idea why America had requested to see him right before a United Nations meeting, but he had no objections. The young superpower had done a remarkable job helping to rebuild his sector. Germany owed him at least some attention. The way America had sounded on the phone seemed to indicate that this was very important. So, he found himself opening the door to America's private office in New York.

The blonde, who had become something of a friend in the years since the war, gave Germany a small smile when he saw him enter. But, the look was quickly replaced by one of worry. The American spoke in his usual fast, vague manner, "I have received information that Ivan is coming to this meeting and bringing all of his satellite states with him."

Germany thought about this, but he couldn't figure out why America was telling him. As far as he knew, Russia had always dragged the states he dominated to UN meetings to show his strength, if violence and coercion could be considered strength. It was not so surprising to hear this, but America was saying it as though it was somehow new information. Hoping to get clarification, he replied, "Doesn't he always?"

America looked directly at him, and there was pity in his eyes. It had been so long since anyone had looked at him like that, with sympathy instead of blame. He felt a deep pang of affection for the American. For a moment, he was reminded of the way Prussia used to look at him when he was a boy. That thought was bitter though. He missed having his brother there to comfort him. It had been four years, four very long years, since he had last seen his older brother. For all his pining, there was nothing he could do to reunify the country until the allies were able to agree.

The American appeared to be multitasking as he picked up separate pieces of paper up from the table in front of him. Germany had noted that the man never prepared for meetings until right before. America took a deep breath before saying, "Yes, but now that the German Democratic Republic is officially a country, he has a seat in the United Nations. He will be here today with Ivan."

Germany felt the air go out of his lungs. The idea hadn't even occurred to him because he could not bring himself to think of Prussia as a separate communist country. The official announcement that the GDR was a separate country had wreaked of Soviet control. He believed that Gilbert had little to do with it. Prussia must still long for reunification, even if it wasn't yet possible. But, if he was going to be here today, Germany would have the chance to know for certain. It would be possible, if he could avoid Russia, to talk to his brother.

But, America seemed to anticipate what Germany was thinking, because he said, "I don't know how to prepare you for this. I thought about it all night last night. So, I'll tell you this: If Ivan is letting one of his satellites attend an international meeting, it's because he knows they won't betray him. If your brother is going to be here, then Ivan is certain of his control."

After he finished speaking, America took out a comb and started aggressively trying to enforce order on his usually messy hair. Germany could hear what America was trying to imply and it sent a wave of revulsion through him. But, the revulsion was followed by equally strong anger. America hardly knew Prussia; he didn't understand how strong the albino was. Germany knew that his brother would not break like the Baltic states and be servile to Russia. He knew, as certainly as he knew anything, that Prussia would rather die than submit to the degradation of being a communist. Russia had destroyed their country, and Prussia would never listen to a man like that. But, America had to assume the worst. It would be politically dangerous to assume he could trust an ostensively communist state.

Germany straightened his back, certain in his resolve, "I know that he's still my brother. I will talk to him while he is here. I don't know when I will get another opportunity." He expected a scolding about how he was being naive or disregarding global politics. America loved to explain his complicated plans to bring down communism and how no one else could possibly understand or formulate them.

But, America nodded, "I think you should. I don't know what Ivan has done, but I know you and your brother were close." He took a few steps towards Germany, tucking a file with an agenda under his arm as he did so. Then he said, taking one last look at himself in a mirror, "If you can talk to him, it might remind him that he has someone he can come back to. Tell him that if he wants to come back to you, he should contact me. I know how to be discrete, and I will use any information he gives me to free him."

America turned away from the mirror, so that he was facing Germany again. Germany couldn't hear anything but sincerity in the words. He knew that America wanted to reunite them out of a selfish desire to expand his sphere of influence, but if the result was reunification, he didn't care. He wanted nothing more than to have his brother back; he had buried his own imperialist ambitions.

He assumed from the fact that America had stopped fidgeting that it was time to go. The meeting that Germany had initially been apathetic towards now had a terrible weight. He felt nervous to finally see Prussia. The feeling seemed so foreign. Prussia had been the most stable part of his life as long as he could remember, but now the prospect of seeing the albino was heavy with angst. He tried not to ask himself how different Prussia would be. He spoke, more to himself than to America, "I will get him back. Ivan can't hold onto him forever."  
America nodded to him, "I hope you are right."

* * *

The car pulled up to the towering building in New York and Prussia took a deep breath. He didn't like this place; he knew whose land he was on and that same country now held his brother. Russia, who was sitting beside him with his hand resting casually on his knee, heard the reaction and said, "Think of it this way: we will prove how wrong he is on his own soil."

The albino placed his hand on top of Russia's, and he felt Russia shift closer to him. He replied and felt the corners of his lips twitch upward, "He is going to be shocked if he thinks he can expand his empire in Europe."  
Russia nodded as the car stopped. Before opening the door, he turned to the albino and said once more, "I trust you to do what you have to." The albino nodded shortly. He fully believed that there was little he could do if anyone under America's influence approached him. Russia stepped out of the car and extended his hand to Prussia; he gladly took it and stepped out into the sun.

* * *

Germany burst out of the room fighting back emotions. It had been a long day. America talked emphatically about his plans for the world and then Russia stood, ice cold and stoic, and voiced concise objections that had the undertone of threats. The battle of words between the superpowers continued in the same way through most of the day: One concise and menacing, the other loud and bombastic. But Germany had hardly listened. He didn't care much about global politics; the war and the aftermath had convinced him that he should focus on his own internal problems first.

His gaze was fixed across the room. He was seated among the countries America considered to be his allies, and the communists were seated on the other side of the chamber. It wasn't difficult for him to find a familiar figure among them, in military dress as he always was. Prussia was seated directly to the right of Russia, who presided over his satellite states like a king surrounded by his courtiers. Germany could only guess that the albino was afforded such a position because Russia needed the proximity to keep an eye on him. The albino looked well enough, as far as Germany could tell. He didn't look like he had been abused or starved, which assuaged some of the German's fears.

But, he could see differences, even if they were subtle. The albino kept his eyes fixed on Russia, like he was measuring the distance between them. His eyes never strayed, never searched out his other half. Germany desperately wished that his brother would look at him for just a moment. He needed to see his eyes, to know that everything was really alright. There was something else he couldn't quite place, something different in his brother's mannerisms and expressions. Whenever Russia finished one of his short objections, Prussia would clap shortly. It was strange, though all the communist states did the same. All the others seemed to be avoiding looking at the albino, or glancing at him with undisguised disdain. Germany couldn't shake the feeling of sickness that settled on him at the sight of his brother surrounded by enemies, expressing solidarity. It was an act, he told himself; it had to be an act. Prussia was protecting himself so that he could have the chance to reunify the nation.

He told himself that when they had a chance to speak later, he would be able to give his brother the hope he needed. He would be able to pull his brother's eyes away from Russia. It was this plan, seeming entirely clear to him, that propelled Germany so quickly out of the door to find his brother. He had noticed, only briefly that America gave him an approving nod as he left. That gesture was all he needed to know that he was allowed to seek out a communist country. It was probably the only time he would grant it.

Germany had a purpose again, like he had not had since the war. There was strength and determination in each step as he weaved between other countries. Mentally, he was focusing on the one hurdle in his way: If he could not separate Prussia from Russia, he would have no opportunity to speak to his brother. There had to be a way to separate them and he was certain he could find it. One or two of the countries he passed looked at him questioningly, but most payed him no mind. Germany didn't care; his mind was fixed.

He felt the difference in the air, like a sudden chill, when he got close enough to Russia. Through the few people that remained between him and the soviet satellite states, Germany caught site of a familiar pale figure. Now, more than before, Germany could see his brother fully. There was something ominous about the uniform he was wearing, something ghostly and familiar. The blonde justified it to himself: Russia had made that decision. He steeled himself and took the next couple feet in a calm stride, surreptitiously looking for Russia as he did so. It seemed so likely that the man would appear like a vigilant guard dog to quash Germany's ambitions. Though the unearthly cold the man always seemed to exude hung in the air, Russia did not appear to be present.

The Baltic states were speaking among themselves, but their postures indicated continued vigilance. Prussia was standing by himself, as though the opportunity had been set up for Germany. His heart jumped into his throat. It was equal parts fear and excitement. A weaker man would have stopped himself, but Germany wouldn't let his anxieties stop him. He closed most of the space between them before saying, "Gilbert."

The room went silent. Out of the corner of his eye, Germany caught sight of Lithuania turning to look at him, pale and aghast. Prussia turned his head and looked directly at Germany. Their eyes meeting sent Germany's heart racing. But, once the initial excitement faded, he realized that the red eyes were distant, as though he was very far away. The sharpness and strength that had always been behind his eyes was missing.

Germany took a deep breath. It hadn't been clear until now that what Russia had done behind closed doors had done damage. Germany had always been certain that his brother would be stronger than him, and now there seemed to be a void. Germany felt an ache in his chest at the realization. His mistake had cost him something precious. He expected the albino to respond, but there was nothing but empty silence. Prussia's red eyes met Germany's, but he said nothing.

The eyes of all the others were on them, waiting for a conversation that defied both superpowers. But, Prussia was silent, so Germany spoke as though his brother had returned his greeting. He said, trying to maintain his composure, "It is good to see you again. I had thought you would not be gone so long. You look well though." He tried to express all the longings he had felt being alone for the first time in a few, painfully polite words. If they had been in private, there was far more he would have said and done. Here they could not touch, though he longed to take his brother in his arms.

Though Prussia was looking directly at him and clearly hearing what he said, he continued his stony silence. Germany couldn't understand it. He had said nothing that should warrant this treatment. A desperation started to claw at him as the silent minutes pass. The albino was completely impassive except for the slight tilt of his head. Succumbing to the feeling of desperation, he let slip, "If you wanted to come back, it could be done. You just need to tell me. You don't have to listen to the Soviet Union."

The words came out far more careful than he would like. America's offer was on the tip of his tongue, but he dare not speak it this publicly. There were too many people listening, so the vague hint would have to be enough. The area, though full of people, was completely silent. Prussia's expression shifted, the first reaction Germany had gotten out of him.. The expression was one of shock, and Germany imagined a shadow of disgust, but he couldn't understand why. Frustration mounted again. He wanted to hear reasons, any reasons.

He opened his mouth again, ready to speak and tell his brother anything to get him to talk, secrecy be damned. But, no sound escaped before he heard a voice behind him, hard and sharp as polished steel, "You are out of line." Germany didn't need to turn to see Russia menacing over him. The voice was unmistakable. Germany knew he should leave immediately, but he couldn't bring himself to.  
His old militarism stirred, and he responded, "Let me speak to my brother, Russland."

He knew he had made a mistake by the way all three of the Baltics gasped. Russia stepped decisively between Germany and Prussia. Germany recognized the gesture for what it was: Russia was categorically denying him. But, the Russian wasn't done. He sneered, "The concept of occupation seems lost on you. You have no right to demand anything." The German cold feel himself squirming under that unending gaze. But, he glanced around Russia, attempting to see his brother.

Russia wasn't fooled. He said, his voice making the hair on the back of Germany's back stand up, "Don't bother. Subterfuge will be completely futile." The blonde recoiled. His courage slowly capitulating to his caution and discipline. Russia's choice of words made it perfectly clear: He knew what America had proposed. It didn't make any sense that he should, but his eyes left little doubt. To say more would be to risk repercussions, and that was something Germany was not willing to do. He held his tongue, though it was painful. He would give anything to wipe that smug smile off Russia's face.

But, the Russian, apparently judging his enemy to be dealt with, turned and put his arm around Prussia's shoulder. It was a clear gesture that they were leaving, but the choice to put his arm around the albino got under Germany's skin. Out of all of his satellite states, Russia chose to claim this one. Germany knew it was to taunt him, to show him what he had lost. In a moment of white hot rage, he shouted at Russia's back, "Get your hands off of him, Bolshevik dog!"

As soon as they escaped he wished he could take them back. He could taste the ire in them, but he knew what they were. Nazi words, still just below the surface. They had occurred to him like an animal instinct. But, he knew it was the wrong. He saw Prussia's eyes first, the reproach present in them. He understood it perfectly. Wordlessly, Prussia was admonishing him for risking everything he had sacrificed himself for. Russia's sadistic smile widened. Germany's heart thudded dully as he realized he had given the Russian exactly what he wanted. With the same smile, he leaned over and whispered something to Prussia. The albino grimaced and nodded.

Germany could only imagine what the words were; he had heard the way the Russian could twist words. But, what he had said was true. He could feel the hate pounding through every vein in his body. This communist was flaunting his control and there was nothing he could do about it. Germany hadn't felt hate this hot or vitriolic since the war. Russia's paw tightened on Prussia's shoulder and, with irritating ease, he led the albino away. Neither of them even glanced back at him, though Germany wished he could meet his brother's gaze just one more time. He fought the urge to shout after the pair again; there was nothing he could say or do.

But, he did catch a strangely pitying glance from Latvia. It raised far more questions than it answered. If this was the punishment that the world though he deserved, why would any of them look at him like that? It seemed to him that there was some secret awareness in the glance, like Latvia knew a truth far worse than he ever could. That look, fleeting though it was, sent a chill down Germany's spine.

In his peripheral vision, he saw America approaching. The blonde looked livid, and the German immediately assumed it was his fault. Every look of anger or pain he had seen recently had been a direct result of his action. But, the young man's glare went past him and fixed on the retreating figure of Russia. Without looking directly at Germany, he snarled, "What did he say to you?"

The question left little doubt that he suspected what had happened. But, all the same, Germany struggled to find the words to express what had happened. The encounter had been so short, but the emotions behind it were debilitating. His hope had evaporated as soon as Russia's eyes fell on him. He spoke, still searching for the right word, "Russia will not allow me to talk to Gilbert."

It was a vast oversimplification, but it would have to do for now. America nodded slowly, indicating that he understood. It became even clearer when he said, "So it is as bad as I feared." The vague statement expressed solidarity in a way that Germany appreciated. It seemed that Alfred would offer comfort if he had it, but he didn't. It seemed that he too was lost for words at this turn of events.

Turning to America, Germany said, "If I don't dissuade him from communism-" The words tasted like treason. But, if that allowance would make a difference, he would do it. Still feeling the sting of his own cowardice, he finished, "do you think he would let me speak to Gilbert?" It was his last desperate attempt to get at least a word. It seemed impossible to return to Bonn without even a glimmer of his brother. All the denunciations he wanted to speak could stay in his throat, if that was really what was necessary.

But, the other shook his head slowly, "I don't think there is a chance. Ivan is leaving and he won't give you another opportunity. He knows I encouraged you." A new wave of nausea washed over him as a vision occurred to him: Russia with his lips against his brother's ear, whispering lies to keep them apart. This scenario was the best he could imagine, and it still turned his stomach.

Still unwilling to believe that this was the last chance and he had squandered it with his childish rage, he said, "Ask him once more. He won't listen to me, but you are his equal."  
In a moment of genuine pity passed over the American's face as he looked directly at the other. He said only, "I'll see what I can do." Then he left in the same direction as Russia, his steady steps echoing through the crowd.

* * *

Russia made sure the car door was firmly closed behind them before he spoke. He had waited until they were completely alone to voice what he thought, though it had been on the tip of his tongue since he heard Germany's voice. He had guessed that America had the nerve to do this, and yet it had still surprised. It was so brazen to encroach on Russia's sphere of influence. Doubtless, America would feign ignorance and claim that Germany had acted of his own accord. But, this could be nothing else. America continued to be an opportunistic imperialist. He said, "I'm sorry, Gilbert."

He didn't know what to expect from the albino; he wasn't certain how much impact his brother's words had made. Deep in his chest, he felt the aching fear that everything he had constructed had just been undone. Prussia loved his brother, more deeply and enduringly than he cared about anything else. Russia had used that to break him, but now the same affection could destroy their fledgling bond. If the man chose to believe his brother, then all of Russia's care would be undone. He feared that he would be left alone again with fearful supplicants and his sisters. He had done what he could to tell the albino about America's toxic influence, but that was no guarantee. He took comfort in the fact that the other had followed his orders perfectly. But the doubts were louder, saying Prussia would choose his precious little brother over everything.

The time before Prussia responded seemed to stretch on indefinitely, holding Russia's emotions on the precipice. He snarled back, "I thought Alfred was supposed to help him." The words could not be more welcome. The anger that Russia had feared would be directed at him had found the proper target. He replied smoothly, stoking this anger, "He was tasked with reconstructing the West."  
As he expected, Prussia snapped back, "Then why does my brother still sound like a fascist?"

There was anger in his voice, but another emotion was winning him over. His eyes were fixed directly in front of him, as though he was replaying the encounter in his mind. His voice broke as he said, "If he still clutches of that poisonous ideology, then he will-" He shook his head furiously. Russia could see tears welling at the corners of the other's eyes. There was a muscle bulging in his jaw, as it always did when he was biting back his words. It was a strangely surreal feeling to see this much care, this much emotion and to know he created this response. This was exactly what he wanted though. With each revelation, he could turn Prussia more resolutely against the capitalist West. He didn't bother to mention that he knew there were former Nazi party members in the West German government. The conclusion Prussia had reached on his own was enough. This one was particularly powerful: Prussia could see how American influence was corrupting what he loved most.

But, Russia was not enjoying this as a victory. There was little joy in seeing the man hurt. He wanted to soothe away the pain and assure his lover that he alone could do it. Following his instincts, the Russian wrapped one arm around the man and pulled him close. There was a slight quiver that he could feel just beneath the uniform. It was impossible to tell if he was shaking from anger or sadness. But, Russia could also feel Prussia reciprocate, grasping at his coat. When he spoke again it was through tightly clenched teeth and the words left no doubt as to what he was feeling, "Ludwig needs help and guidance and Alfred is playing him."

These words did bring a smile to Russia's face, a smug self-satisfied smile. So, he didn't have to sow enmity between the brothers to have Prussia revile America. That made his task much easier. Turning brothers against each other was difficult, but convincing the albino that his brother had been stolen away from him was easy. He responded with the words of comfort that came most naturally, "He needs you, Gil."

Russia ran his hand up the albino's back, making certain that his touch was firm enough to be felt through the layers of the uniform. Prussia shifted even closer to him, nestling his head against his shoulder. Russia felt himself warming at the proximity. The effect hadn't faded in the time; if anything, it was stronger now. He moved his other hand to the back of albino's neck. The albino let out a soft gasp as he felt the gloved hand on the sensitive skin. As Russia spoke again, he ran his thumb over a sensitive spot behind the other's ear, "Alfred is manipulating him now, but you will get the chance to teach him."

Russia resisted the urge to bite back the words. In truth, he did not want the other half of the Germany. He would rather displace the West and return Prussia to sole control of the land. He had no desire to be served by the man who had concocted and ordered operation Barbarossa. But, for his lover he would restrain his grudge. Wordlessly, Prussia fixed his eyes on Russia's face. The look in them was vulnerable, almost pleading. It was too tempting not to take advantage of. Russia leaned in and joined their lips.

He felt the albino react, desperate, emotional and needy. His kiss was messy, but passionate. Russia could feel the way Prussia grasping at affection after this blow to his certainty, and he was more than willing to provide it. He deepened the kiss, giving the albino the care and attention he needed. Slowly, he used his fingers to undo the top buttons of the other's uniform and loosen his tie. He was prepared to start kissing down his neck. But, there was a sharp knock on the window.

The sound was distinctly unwelcome. Russia turned with a slight snarl to see who was so tactlessly interrupting. Prussia whimpered slightly as their lips parted. But, he could see through the window over Russia's shoulder and he hissed, "Speak of the devil." The venom in his voice made it far less surprising when Russia saw America on the other side of the window. He was tempted to leave the window closed and shut his rival out completely, but that would be a politically dangerous move. It was necessary that he at least maintain cordiality with America, even if he wished for the complete ruin of the man.

With a frustrated sigh, he rolled down the window. America leaned forward into the open space and it immediately felt like an imposition. The blonde didn't know how intimate the moment he interrupted was. Irritated, Russia said, "What do you want, Jones?" He saw the other stiffen at his tone. Apparently, it was not enough to dissuade him from his purpose.  
He responded curtly, "Let Ludwig talk to his brother. They won't talk about politics."

Russia could hear the deceit just below the surface. This wasn't about reuniting brothers; this was about stealing away East Germany. America thought that by feigning compassion he could facilitate Germany convincing his brother to rebel. Russia was not fooled and he would not allow it. He replied, "Nyet."

An angry flush colored the American's face to the roots of his blonde hair. He tilted his head slightly and made another insulting attempt. He spoke around Russia, "Gilbert, your brother misses you. You must know how much he misses you." Russia could hardly believe that America was so unwilling to deviate from his plan that he was resorting to this. He felt a spasm of dread in his chest as he contemplated the possibility that Prussia would succumb to this appeal to emotion.

But, it was quashed when the albino leaned over and said, speaking directly to America as America had spoken to him, "So now you care? That's very convenient. If you really considered Ludwig's best interests, then you wouldn't have split us up. I could have helped him, but you robbed me of that. You wanted us separate. When I see him again, it will not be on your terms."

Russia felt himself smile as a shining pride bubble up. His lover was defending their bond like he used to defend his brother. Buoyed by his pride, Russia glanced at America's face. There was a look of abject horror, but his eyes were fixed on Prussia's neck. Russia had to look at his lover before he understood what America was so rapt by. By unbuttoning Prussia's collar, he had revealed the love bites from the night before and the albino leaning forward had made them even clearer. America's mouth was hanging agape as he realized the entirety of the situation. Russia could even detect a hint of jealousy in the blue eyes.

Prussia finished his reproach with a piercing glare, "Leave me out of your next scheme."  
Russia added, "Does that satisfy you?" He didn't wait for an answer though. He knew that America understood how fruitless his attempts were. Russia said shortly, "Goodbye, Jones." He rolled up the window, leaving America still standing dumbfounded next to the car.

* * *

Germany had sat down to wait for America to return, and as he sat he scripted the conversation he would have with his brother. It was difficult to think of what to say without even enquiring about the politics of occupation. But, that was the promise he had made and he was not going to break it. But, excluding the politics the conversation could only be personal. There was so much he wanted to say to his brother, so much he wanted to apologize for. He had realized that so much of the war had been his fault and that Gilbert had only acted to protect him. If they could just talk to each other again, he could tell his brother how remorseful he was.

The sound of hurried footsteps informed him that America had returned. He stood up and looked expectantly in the direction of the sound. His heart dropped as soon as he caught sight of America. The man's face was completely white as though he had seen something profoundly shocking. There was no way that the news could be good. But, with his hope already shrinking, he asked, "What did he say?"  
America stopped and took a deep breath before saying, "I didn't get a chance to speak to Ivan. They've already left." His voice was hollow, and Germany got the sense that the response was a lie. Before he had a chance to comment on the lie, America said, "I think it is better for now if you don't try to contact your brother."

Germany drew in a sharp breath. He couldn't abide that order. He couldn't give up on his brother. He responded, "I can't do that."  
America nodded sadly, "I know. But for your own good, I think you should."


End file.
